


Keepsake

by AraSigyrn



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), American Idol RPF, Kris Allen (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-07-23
Updated: 2010-07-23
Packaged: 2017-10-10 18:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/102755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam and Kris can't be together right now but that doesn't mean anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Keepsake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jerakeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerakeen/gifts).



It fucking figures, really, that they finally give in on the last night. A whole season, a whole tour and hours living in each other's pockets and the sexual tension blows the day before they have to go back to the real world.

After, stumbling back to the hotel room with Kris hanging around his waist while Adam fumbles his keycard, he bundles Kris into his bed and wraps around him like it's just that simple to hide them both from looming albums and tours and interviews.

"Katy knows," Kris told him, back in the bar, two shots shy of falling down drunk with his cheeks flushed and his plaid shirt long since gone. His hair was rumpled, he had Megan's lipstick smeared across the corner of his mouth and he was wearing the jeans Adam had picked out for him; sinfully soft, skintight denim. He'd leaned into Adam, voice slurred and thick with Arkansas and Adam honestly thought he'd been slipped something because seriously, no way was this happening. Kris' soft, needy confession and the heat and weight of him pressed in against Adam's shiny new silk shirt.

If Adam had had just one more shot, he'd have dragged Kris out of the bar, into the bathrooms maybe or just the alley out back and kissed him and fucked him until they both passed out. As it is, he's just sober enough to know that they can't, not with everyone drinking and hugging and crying about how much they were going to miss the tour and everyone getting everyone else's number and promising to stay in touch. Kris was practically sitting in his lap and everyone kept hanging around their table and cooing at them. Adam couldn't even take a bathroom break without Matt following him in to talk about his plans for his album.

They make it back just before dawn, Adam ruthlessly dragging Kris along while Anoop and Matt serenade the early morning commuters.

When he wakes up, it's morning, maybe an hour before PAs and organizers start banging on doors and Adam is sore and sweaty and needs a shower. He's also not moving until he absolutely has to. Kris has a hand curled in Adam's belt and face buried against the narrow strip of skin between Adam's shirt collar and the narrow leather collar Adam picked up in NYC. Adam can feel his eyelashes move in ticklish sweeps against his skin.

"You awake?" He rasps.

"Yeah," Kris breathes into the triangle of bare skin where Adam's shirt has come undone. "This sucks, you know?"

"Oh, sweetheart," Adam gets a hand up to ruffle Kris' hair. "I know."

"There's tour and recording and Katy...god, what am I going to do about Katy?"

"You said," Adam starts carefully. "That she knows?"

"She does," Kris lifts his head, eyes too sad and deep to resist and Adam kisses him, nipping his lip to feel Kris jolt against him. "She does and she says it's okay but she- the tabloids are going to have a field-day and it's not fair. Not to her."

"I know, baby," Adam combs Kris' hair flat.

"I don't want her-," Kris frees one hand from its death-grip on Adam's shirt to wave vaguely at the window. "I want better for her than to be my, what did you call it? My beard? That's not right."

"It's not just Katy, there's recording, touring and all that jazz," Adam points out, hugging Kris closer. "I'm grateful that you told me, baby, I really, really am but you have to admit..."

"The timing sucked?" Kris curls tighter against him. "I know, I'm sorry. Maybe, maybe we could...wait? Not, like, forever but just until it's not so...crazy? I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Adam says bluntly. "But you know it's going to be a while? You and Katy need to separate, there's the tours, the publicity to get through first. This could be years, you know that, right?"

Kris nods, hugging harder. His "I know" is muffled against Adam's chest.

"You okay with that?" Adam forces himself to ask. Kris is the American Idol, he's going to have a lot of time and a lot of pretty people in his future and if that's going to be a problem, Adam needs to know.

"Yeah." Kris fidgets a little. "But, I know...it won't be easy for you. You shouldn't feel like you have to like, stop kissing people or whatever. You've got needs, I get it. I can be cool with that.""Kristopher Neil Allen," Adam snaps, grabbing his shoulders to give him a shake and Kris looks so pathetic that Adam can't even get angry at him because he's _trying_ so damn hard. "Look, for fuck's sake, I'm not _interested_ in other people. Just you, okay?"

"Okay," Kris mumbles but he's not looking at Adam and Adam can see the clock and he doesn't have _time_ to talk Kris around about this. He doesn't have time to prove how much he wants – loves – Kris and it makes him want to throw a full diva tantrum but he doesn't even have time for _that_.

"I-" Inspiration strikes and Adam fumbles at his neck, pushing himself up so he unbuckle the collar. It's real leather, smart but understated. Kris blinks up at him, head tipped against Adam's abs and mouth slightly open. Adam has to close his eyes for second to keep from just pushing Kris down and fucking his mouth until Kris is desperate and whining and mindless with want. "You want to be mine, don't you, baby?"

Kris nods, cheeks going pink as he leans into Adam's hand.

"God baby, so beautiful," Adam breathes, tipping Kris' head up. Kris lets him, shifting obediently to hold the position Adam wants and god, what Adam wouldn't give for like a month to spend right here... "I want you to wear this, okay?"

"Like all the time?" Kris asks, nose scrunching up.

"If you want to," Adam says carefully. "Or just when you need reminding that I love you and we're going to be so fucking kick-ass awesome together that all this bullshit will have been totally worth it."

"Huh," Kris runs a finger along the collar, blush deepening into a dusky red. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" Adam holds it out.

"Yes. God, please, yes!" Kris bows his head, breath hot and heavy against Adam's crotch, neck bared to let him buckle the collar. Adam's fingers are only shaking a little as he guides Kris back up, the D-ring resting in the dip of his clavicle and Adam has to adjust himself in his too-fucking tight leather pants. Kris' pupils are blown, dark and hungry and Adam kisses him hard and Kris just opens for it and-

"Adam?" His PA raps on the door. "Check out in twenty minutes!"

"Sure," Adam shouts back, hands still cupping Kris' face. Kris looks drugged, trusting and needy and "God, the things I am going to do to you, baby."

"Later?" Kris asks/promises and Adam drags him into one last scorching kiss.

"Later."

\-------  
A year later, Adam and his entourage are coming back from London when Tommy picks up some magazines on their way to the first class lounge. He shows one to Adam; _Rolling Stone_, Kris' first cover and Adam grabs it to flick through the interview. The splash photo is Kris, looking away to one side with his guitar on his lap and his chin in his hands, the collar a sharp dark contrast to his fair skin and white T-shirt.

Adam smiles.


	2. Missing scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn, pure and simple.

He had, Adam is reasonably sure, a plan. Arrangements made, people paid off, a bed, _lube_.

Then he actually saw Kris. In his Arkansas plain and his worn old jeans, with the slick black collar peeking over the neck of his shirt.

Now, crowded against the back of his hotel room's door, Kris is flushed and panting, hair sticking to his forehead and lips swollen and slick. He has his head tipped back and there are pink impressions of Adam's mouth along the line of his neck that will be bruises by tomorrow.

Adam has his fingers curled into Kris' collar and he keeps Kris right there, pulling him into another long kiss. He can feel Kris' racing pulse, every moan, every swallow and the tiny shudders as Kris gets desperate. He can smell Kris, all open-air and sun and fresh grass and the leather of the collar.

If he tugs, just a little, Kris' head tips back to bare his throat and Adam only has to bend his head to taste Kris' needy, thready gasp. His other hand is closed around both Kris' wrists and Adam is hyper-aware of how tiny Kris is like this, arced up on tip-toe and pressed up against Adam with no leverage, no room even to breathe. He's just so _willing_; everything focused on Adam and it's that minute after the drugs kick in, it's the moment just before the lights come up, when the roar of the audience sounds like it's coming though from another planet. It's thirty thousand people, mindless screaming and all that attention, all that energy. It's dizzy, delirious and Adam's on fire, nerves sparking like live wires and heart beating in 6/8ths time.

Kris tastes of Jaeger and mouthwash and something harder to define. He's compact, sleek and muscular and Adam wants to just _engulf_ him. Tie him to the bed and cover his eyes and explore all that golden skin with his fingers and his tongue and his teeth until Kris can't breathe past the want.

Adam pushes Kris up against the door, pulling him into the kiss, the collar strangle-hold tight against his throat and Kris...perfect fucking _fantastic_ Kris brings his legs up to lock around Adam's hips and he pushes forward, sucking Adam's tongue, grazing it with sharp white teeth and keening softly when Adam has to break away to breathe.

Adam rips his shirt getting it off, shreds Kris' stupid plaid shirt into rags. Kris is panting, too strung out even to beg but his eyes are wide and dark and he's rocking up against Adam, even with his hands pinned over his head. Adam squeezes his wrists. "There, keep them there, baby. Don't move."

Kris' head jerks in an arrhythmic nod and Adam rips the neck of his t-shirt, clumsy-eager to bare Kris' neck and he bites at the collar, pulling it taut and Kris arches helplessly up against him. Adam can feel him, hot and hard against Adam's stomach and he lets go, leans in to nip at Kris' ear and breathe "Going to leave a mark. My teeth in your collar. Everyone can see, everyone will _know_ how much I want you, how much you want this."

"Oh, oh, _god_!" Kris whimpers, head thumping back against the door.

Adam strokes his hands up the inside of Kris' thighs, coaxing his legs a little wider to fit them even closer together. Kris is shuddering against him, panting so hard that he's shaking with it and his fingers are flexing against thin air.

Adam leans in, close enough that they're breathing the same super-heated air and lowers his voice, not even trying to keep the rough edge out of his words. "You going to come for me, baby? Just from this."

Kris whimpers, back bowing back at an insane angle as his body goes tight and his head snaps back. Adam can feel his release, hot and damp through his jeans where they're pressed so tight together. He leans in to kiss the bared curve of Kris' neck, dragging his tongue along the line of his collar, tasting Kris and leather and sweat and need.

**Author's Note:**

> Jerakeen offered the following bunny for adoption: "I want to read a post-tour fic where the guys acknowledge their feelings for each other, but have to part ways because Kris is still married, and they each have an album to promote. They don't have sex or anything, just maybe kiss once or twice, and when it's time to say goodbye, Kris is all awkward, telling Adam that he can date and stuff, Kris doesn't mind - so Adam smacks him on the back of the head for being an idiot and gives him the black leather collar he's wearing."
> 
> Never let it be said I'm not easy.


End file.
